


for want of a nail.

by actualflower



Series: fireteam: condor [2]
Category: Destiny (Video Game)
Genre: A Snarky Hunter and a Deadpan Warlock meet an Equally Snarky Titan, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Near-death Experiences, fireteam: condor is here folx and i love it, getting the team together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2017-10-09
Packaged: 2019-01-15 02:52:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12312399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/actualflower/pseuds/actualflower
Summary: Examoris and Bera get in a bad way.Enter Ryf Lastimosa, human Titan, and the perfect person to pull their asses out of the fire.





	for want of a nail.

**Author's Note:**

> unbeta'd. enjoy. <3

Snow falls in soft sheets of delicate white around her, but Examoris feels cold like anything else - a number fed through sensors in her metal skin that tell her the world around her is cold. Normally, she chooses to feel it - now, with the Fallen pinning her behind the rusted shell of a Golden-Age car with a gash in her right arm rendering it inoperable, she’s choosing very carefully what sensory data to relay to her conscious mind.

“Bera, status!” she shouts over the coms.

“Mmfm,” she hears, fuzzy and distant over the radio, and when she peeks her head up between the Vandals’ fusion rifle shots, she sees the Hunter holding a wound in her side and leaning against a concrete divider. When she moves, it is sluggish and vague, as if she’s concussed or light-headed from blood loss.

_ Maybe both, _ Examoris concludes with a grimace. “Don’t move, Bera - I’m coming to your position.”

“Warlock, you know you ain’t moving anytime soon,” Bera slurs, voice pitched low. “You should run - m’Ghost’ll get me out.”

_ I’d die before I let the Darkness take you  _ almost slips out, but Examoris bites her mechanical processor for want of a tongue and says this: “I don’t know if our Ghosts will make it out, Bera.”

“Well, it was nice runnin’ with you, Exo. Exa. Your name doesn’t shorten well, you know that? You should find a good nickname.” Bera’s slurred rambles gradually peter out, and Examoris watches her hand cannon fall from her limp hands as she leans against the concrete divider fully.

“Bera? Bera, say something, Bera, please!” Examoris shouts from the comms, but she doesn’t get a response. Instead, she gets Bera’s Ghost.

“Warlock, I’m going to transmat her out of here,” Bera’s Ghost says, his voice oddly inflectionless. “You have to get us both out. I can’t pull us out completely, not like this.”

Examoris nods. She’s already ducked back behind the rusted car, sidearm in hand, mentally preparing scenarios at a rapid pace -  _ three Vandals at 10, 12, and 2 and a whole mess of dregs in between; the bounty moves from 9 to 12, 3 shots before reload - bait out the three shots, hope the Dregs have bad aim, and pray you’ve got enough energy left for a good bombing run. _ She lets the Void gather in her palm, dark purple swirling while she breathes in, out, feels it almost flicker before she drags it back into being.

“Ghost, hail on all frequencies - two Guardians in desperate need of extraction. Examoris-83 and Bera Syvalnus.” She feels a mental tap of acknowledgement, and he begins broadcasting the distress signal. Examoris hopes it makes it out of the Darkness they’ve gotten themselves locked in inside the Cosmodrome.

She steels herself a moment longer, and makes the first leap towards Bera’s Ghost. A Vandal clips her in the leg, and she redirects to get her closer to the divider before tumbling to the ground behind it in an ungraceful heap, leg giving way underneath her.

“Fuck,” she mutters, and Bera’s Ghost almost seems to nod. Examoris holds out her palm, and he gently floats to it, transmatting into her Light. It’s strange, having two Ghosts inside that liminal space, not to mention the bright feeling of having Bera’s Light cradled in there as well, and she’s suddenly reminded of the dire straits she’s truly in.

Memories of the Hellmouth threaten to choke her, and she swallows them down with a dry throat.

“Ghost, status,” she breathes, voice cracking. She flinches as another shot of Arc energy pulses past from a Vandal’s fusion rifle.

“No response, Guardian.”

_ If I ran, I could make it approximately 30 feet before-  _ Her leg twinges with pain.  _ 20 feet before I collapsed from pain. There’s 172 feet between me and the path we took in - even with a jump, that leaves me at least 50 feet to cross unassisted. _

She breathes.  _ We’re not going to make it. _

“Ghost, prepare for emergency transmat-” is all she can say before the world erupts into stars and light.

Later, she’ll describe it as ‘something out of the Archives - an avenging angel surrounded in Light and raining death from above’-

-but now? Now, there is a Titan screaming in from the skies, leaping from the entrance into the wrecked car lot the bounty Examoris and Bera were chasing had cornered them in. They leap into the air, golden hammer in hand, and throw it towards something the Warlock cannot see - from the ensuing screech of pain and Fallen chatter, she assumes it is the bounty’s mark.

They keep slinging hammers down at the mark, dancing between blasts from fusion rifles and fire from the dregs, shrugging off the hits that do manage to land. Examoris pops up once or twice to offer what little covering fire she can with her sidearm, taking out one of the Vandals and most of the Dregs as they come. She does not realize everything is dead until she aims down her sights and sees nothing to aim at.

The Titan drifts down to the earth with the  _ clink _ of armor and metal, and Examoris raises her sidearm in a lazy salute. Her Ghost drifts forward, looking as frazzled and harried as ever.

The Titan extends a hand down to Examoris, and she takes it gladly.

“Your friend?” the Titan says, and it takes Examoris a moment to realize they mean Bera.

“She’s in transmat right now. I’d like to get back to the ships before we take her out - she wasn’t in a good way-” Examoris makes to take a step forward, and finds herself stumbling into the arms of the Titan that just rescued them. “...I guess I’m not in a very good way, either.”

“Hm,” the Titan grunts, and Examoris smiles.

She leans against the Titan a moment longer, and when the Titan doesn’t pull away, stays there. Her Ghost flutters around the battlefield, picking up spare engrams and other interesting debris Master Rahool or Master Ives might like to see. When he flutters back, he’s practically glowing with Light.

“Let’s go,” the Titan says, and Examoris couldn’t agree more.

* * *

Bera spends a week in the medical wing, complaining about her stay the entire time. Examoris lectures her on the value of rest and recuperation for organic beings, and Bera shoots back that Exos are just as human as the rest of them, especially their minds - why doesn’t she stay in the medwing as long as she should? It becomes a comfortable argument, shared over boxes of food Examoris brings for Bera from the City vendors she knows she loves.

“I still think it’s bullshit they keep organics longer than they keep exos,” Bera complains through a mouthful of lo mein. “Just because I’m fleshy doesn’t mean-”

Bera’s eyes suddenly flutter over Examoris’ shoulder, towards the door, and Examoris turns around as well. There’s a dark-skinned human, tall, hair dyed purple and cropped short with bright red lipstick and dark eyeshadow. Dawning recognition and relief cross their face as they see Examoris, and she quirks an eyebrow at the newcomer.

“You the Warlock and Hunter whose asses I pulled outta the fire last week?” they say, smile on their face. Examoris only now notices the bouquet of flowers in their hands - they’re plastic, all gifted flowers are, real ones too expensive and timely to cultivate.

“Are you the Sunbreaker Titan that assisted us in dealing with Skolas’ wolves in the Cosmodrome?” Examoris shoots back before Bera can get her snippy retort out.

“Ryf Lastimosa, lady Titan at your service. Thought I’d see how our bruised Hunter was.” She walks into the room with the ease of a predator, Examoris notes, every stride purposeful yet languid, speaking of a comfort in her own body attained by extensive training.

“Your  _ bruised Hunter _ is doin’ just fine, thank you very much,” Bera snips, shoving more lo mein in her mouth.

Examoris sighs, giving up on telling her to slow down. “Examoris-83, Voidwalker Warlock, though I’ve been doing research into Stormcallers, pronouns she/her. This is Bera Syvalnus, Gunslinger Hunter, also she/her.”

Ryf laughs, low and pleased. “Well, Examoris and Bera, it was a fine show you all put on down there.”

“I’ll have you know we fuckin’ did our damnedest against those Fallen fucks,” Bera snaps, “and I don’t want to hear you read us the riot act about ‘not being prepared’ or some shit. We were working off limited intel in the first place.” Bera’s voice is almost a snarl by the end of it.

Examoris tries to play peacekeeper. “Bera, please - she didn’t mean to insult us. Right, Ryf?”

Ryf’s eyes glimmer with delight, and Examoris gets the distinct feeling she’s enjoying all this much more than she should be. “Of course not. I enjoy pulling outmanned fireteams out of the jaws of Darkness. More of a hobby than a day job, really, but-”

A plastic fork still in its cellophane bounces off Ryf’s forehead, dead center, and Bera’s hand is still extended from the throw.

“Listen here,  _ Ryf, _ ” she says, “You need to remember who you’re talking to. Let’s make sure you know, alright? That is  _ Examoris-83 _ , otherwise known as the Warlock that went up against Crota alone and made it back alive. I’m  _ Bera Syvalnus _ , the Hunter that helped her get the job done the second time she went up against that bastard.  _ So, _ ” she carefully replaces her chopsticks in her hands, returning to her meal, “don’t think we’re some kind of freshly-awoken cannon fodder to throw at the Darkness until something sticks. We’ve been through hell,  _ Ryf, _ and we know what the fuck we’re doing.”

Ryf’s grin grows wider, and Examoris can feel herself physically leaning away from whatever is about to unfold in the medwing room.

“Oh no, I know exactly who I’m talking to.” She picks up the fork from her lap, spinning it idly in her hands. “I’m talking to a pair of Guardians that need someone to watch their backs and keep them safe. A pair that’s too used to going in head-first, slapdash plans made on the fly - they work sometimes, yeah, maybe even most of the time for you all, but when they  _ don’t _ , you’re already half-dead and out of second chances.”

Bera looks ready to fight, but Examoris holds up a hand - it is a testament to their working relationship that Bera does not leap from her bed and strangle the Titan before them.

“You’re not wrong,” Examoris says, and out of the corner of her eye she sees Bera give her a withering look. “What? She is not. I see no point in arguing. What is your track record, Titan?”

“You don’t have to be so formal with me, Warlock.” She flashes Examoris a grin, all heat and smiles. “I’m one of Shaxx’s personal protegés. A Redjack, or at least one in training. I’ve got a bit of a reputation in the Crucible.” She shrugs.

Examoris furrows her brow - she’s never enjoyed the Crucible; saw it as a useful tool for other guardians, perhaps, but never good for her. Bera is openly gaping.

“ _ What. _ ”

Ryf takes a moment to preen. “I’m very well trained.”

Bera narrows her eyes. Examoris sighs and squeezes Bera’s hand. She hopes Bera will forgive her.

“Are you looking for a fireteam, Ryf?”

Examoris ignores Bera’s betrayed look from her sickbed in favor of keeping her eyes on Ryf’s face. She seems pleased, open and honest. “It just so happens that I am, Examoris.”

“Well ours is  _ full,  _ so-” Bera’s angry retort is cut off by a squeak as Examoris clenches her fingers around Bera’s. She shoots another angry glare at her, which Examoris continues to ignore.

“How would you feel about a test run, as it were? Bera is slated for release by the end of the week. We have several other bounties available to us - should any of them be suited for us, we plan on taking them. I feel it would be an ample opportunity to test our compatibility on the field in such a capacity where we all are at our best without putting undue stress on ourselves.”

Ryf pretends to consider it for a moment. “You know, you can be real long-winded sometimes, Examoris.”

“I realize this. Bera informs me constantly, though I see no difference between my speech and her own long-windedness.”

“That’s because I have  _ important _ things to say,” Bera grumbles from the bed.

Ryf laughs, a delighted sound. “I think you just might have yourself a Titan.”

**Author's Note:**

> i've had this written for a long time, but never posted it until now. it follows in the same vein as my other condor stories, but after 'this side of mortality' and before 'hear the song of gentle mourning.' here's the story of how examoris and bera got their titan. i hope you enjoy! expect more about these three to come, along with stories about my other fireteam, fireteam: cormorant (they'll be collected in a different, similarly-titled series).
> 
> i have a [tumblr](http://banshee-44.tumblr.com), a [writing tumblr](http://kaytewrites.tumblr.com), and a [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/actualflower) if you'd like to follow me there!
> 
> have a lovely day. <3


End file.
